


Thank God for Grindr

by foreverharriet



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Grindr, M/M, Model AU, Morning After, Not Beta Read, One Night Stand, alternative universe, ice cream parlour au, its short so i can justify writing it and not my essays lol, no skating, only vaguely references sexual content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 04:38:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8953930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverharriet/pseuds/foreverharriet
Summary: After Yuuri’s fairly shitty week, a one night stand goes someway – if only a short way – to restoring some of his shattered confidence, especially given the guy himself looked like he’d strolled straight off the runway and into Yuuri’s bed. Yuuri didn't expect that to be pretty much exactly what had happened.





	1. Chapter 1

It was brief and impersonal. It was also hotter than hell and the highlight of Yuuri’s fairly shitty week. After the death of his beloved Viccan and subsequently flunking his exams, a one night stand goes someway – if only a short way – to restoring some of his shattered confidence. The guy was tall, handsome, and so good it made up for the name and description on his profile. _VIKTORIOUS!_ is something not  everybody can pull off, although Yuuri feels he really can’t judge when his own username is _SpicyKatsudon_. He’d also seemed to genuinely enjoy his evening, even stopping half way through to comment on how cute Yuuri looked with his glasses all fogged up, which was both unexpected and quite flattering, given the guy himself looked like he’d strolled straight off the runway and into Yuuri’s bed.

Really, what had the world done before Grindr?

0o0o0

Yuuri wakes to an empty bed and a handwritten note thanking him for the previous evening which is possibly the most charming thing he’s ever seen outside of an old Hugh Grant rom-com. Slightly less charming is the bold confession that his late night visitor had used his toothbrush – ‘ _after all_ ’, the note reads, ‘ _what’s sharing a toothbrush when your tongue has tickled my tonsils?’_ The thought leaves Yuui rather flustered, and he finds himself being unusually thorough when the time comes for him to brush his own teeth later that morning. 

He eventually forces himself to stop reflecting when he finds himself sprinting for the bus. He flops into an empty seat and tries desperately to look unflustered. An elderly lady across the aisle frowns disapprovingly. Plugging in his music helps to even out his pulse, and by the time the bus pulls up at his stop he’s managed to assume the monotonous shroud of grey that seeps over the inhabitants of public transport like an oil slick.

Lots of people stand to get off, and even more are queuing to board. Working in a shopping centre, Yuuri is no stranger to crowds, but he still feels uneasy as he works his way towards the front doors. He thumbs the volume button on his phone, drowning out the background chatter.

He’s not really in the natural career for one who gets uncomfortable in a crowd, and days like this are especially trying, but Yuuri can’t help loving his job. Running an ice cream parlour has been Yuuri’s dream for as long as he can remember, and although his business is neither the most successful nor the most well-known, his mother’s recipes guarantee that his ice cream is the tastiest.

 It’s the start of the summer holidays and a Saturday besides, so business is non-stop from the moment his shift starts to the moment it ends. His fingers are numb from scooping, his feet ache from standing, and his cheeks hurt from smiling. This, at least, is something he can do.

It’s not until the evening traffic starts to clear up that Yuuri notices what’s been staring him in the face all day. The shop directly opposite his parlour is one of those fashionable ones full of the types of clothes he can’t picture himself trying on, let alone buying, with intimidating sales assistants and price labels discretely screaming ‘ _you can’t afford this!_ ’ to boot.

The front window isn’t packed with products like other the other shops, but sparsely styled with a few select products and a poster in muted grey tones. The model is depicted lounging decadently across a low ornate chair – a chaise lounge, his mind helpfully supplies – with his head tipped back, long hair spilling over the arm and pooling on the dusty floor. One arm reaches out invitingly, slender fingers beckoning Yuuri to come closer. The hair is a surprising length, but those fingers, he remembers through the fog of his stunned brain, were warm and decidedly mischievous when they traced the bumps of his spine.

 _Grindr_ , Yuuri found himself thinking, _is a gift that keeps on giving._


	2. Thank God for Phichit Chulanont

Yuuri taps at the keyboard without pressing a key, the movement of his fingers more a nervous twitch than anything else. He has absolutely no idea what to write, or even where to look next. To think that there are people out there who can hack into government databases and – perhaps more impressively – track down someone with only a first name and a blurry selfie, while in half an hour he hasn’t made any kind of progress trying to find _someone famous_ , is unbelievable.

It’s not completely true, Yuuri has to admit, to say he’s made no progress. After an extensive search of Google, he has ruled out several potential leads, although those leads were pretty much variations on ‘ _name of hot silver haired male model_ ’ and ‘ _male model chaise lounge_ ’. It turns out though that a lot of male models have grey-silver hair – since when has that been a thing? – and searching for the latter leads to more furniture sites than not, which is surprisingly interesting but useless for his purpose nonetheless.

He’s not sure why he’s doing this. One of the reasons he uses Grindr is for the anonymity – shouldn’t he respect the fact that someone going by _VIKTORIOUS_ clearly wants the same? But one side of his mind rebels – surely someone with their face plastered in shop windows should be resigned to the risk of being recognised? The twitch of his fingers increases. There should be an etiquette guide for this kind of situation – ‘ _Grindr for the awkward and anxious’_ , perhaps, or –

Yuuri almost slaps himself, slightly shocked that he’d managed to completely forget his greatest resource for coping with the intricacies of the internet. _Phichit_. Yuuri’s best friend is the undisputed king of social media. Instagram is his realm, his mantles are his filters, and his crowns are weaved of flowers. Under his enthusiastic guidance, Yuuri has learned the art of winged eyeliner selfies , and – yes – was encouraged to download Grindr and actually use it. Yuuri fumbles for his phone.

“YUURI!” Phichit yells down the line, “How are you? It’s been ages! _Oh my god_ I have so much to tell you! _J.J. Leroy_ liked one of my posts, and you know he only ever likes his own photos! And you’ll never guess what Guang-Hong and I did yesterday...”

Yuuri leans back in his chair, happy to let Phichit chatter on. It’s been too long since he’s had a proper chat with his best friend. Phichit fills him in on everything from the state of his Instagram feed – “... a conspicuous absence of selfies Yuuri, are you even living in 2016? Honestly, why have a forward camera if you’re not going to share your beautiful face? I mean...” – to the habits of his hamsters (“so cute!”). Eventually though, Phichit’s tirade begins to slow, and Yuuri can get a word in edgeways that isn’t ‘yeah’, ‘mmm’, or ‘oh really?’.

“I need some help, Phichit,” he admits, noting the sudden hush at the end of the line.

“Yuuri! You should’ve said! What’s wrong?”

Yuuri glances at the faces of the models that tile across his laptop. “I went on Grindr yesterday,” he confesses.

“Good or bad?” Phichit responds, suddenly serious.

Yuuri laughs despite himself. “Good. Really good. Um, fantastic really.”

“I need details. Katsuki Yuuri, my son, my child, _tell all_.”

“I will, I will, I promise,” Yuuri says, running a hand through his hair, smiling, “but I need some advice on Grindr etiquette.”

Phichit snorts. “Yuuri, what did you do?”

“It’s more a question of what he did.”

“Oh no, don’t tell me. Was he a furry?”

“No!” Yuuri gasps.

“Did he have a foot fetish? A latex allergy? Did he use a condom – _Yuuri, tell me you used a_ – _”_

“No, no, and of course we did! Calm down, Phichit, it’s not like that. It’s – it’s who he is.”

Phichit starts laughing. “Did you sleep with someone famous, Yuuri?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri admits, and he can almost see the shocked expression on Phichit’s.

“Are you – are you serious?” _Who_?”

Yuuri chewed a finger nail for a moment. “That’s just the thing – I don’t know! I want to know, but is that wrong? I mean, he’s going by a pseudonym on Grindr, so clearly he doesn’t want his identity to be known... but it’s not like I’m going to tell anyone!”

Phichit is quiet for a moment. “How do you know he’s famous, though, if you don’t know his name?”

“He’s a model. There’s this huge photo of him in the window of the shop opposite the parlour,” Yuuri explained.

“I was at the shopping centre only last week and I walked straight past your parlour, let me – no way. Oh my – Yuuri, google ‘invitation cologne’ and please tell me that’s your man!”

 _No way_ , thought Yuuri, _no way has Phichit found this guy after five – oh my god._

“Well?”

“... Yeah, yeah that’s him... Phichit, how did you know – ”

“Yuuri, how did you not know? Your man of the night, your partner in pleasure, your one night stand – it’s _Viktor Nikiforov_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Whether you celebrate either or something, else I hope these days are full of joy for you and your families!
> 
> So I have chosen to continue this! I'm not sure how long it will be and I can't promise a regular schedule but there will be more :D

**Author's Note:**

> This show slayed me. It also brought me back to life and forcefully opened up word and gave me the inspiration to write this. 
> 
> I don't know if I'll write more but it's always a possibility.


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